


Follow Your Arrow

by Serinae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Banter, Chapters with smut will be marked and have their own tags in the opening notes, Drama, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hanzo has a bit of internalized homophobia, Humor, M/M, McCree also has his prosthetic, McCree has an oral fixation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slow Burn, The journey to finding peace and self acceptance, hipster!Hanzo, thicc!McCree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:18:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serinae/pseuds/Serinae
Summary: Hanzo is an artist whose day to day life is colored by conflicts, mistakes, and troubles from his past. He struggles to find inspiration for his work. Sometimes the motivation just to wake up in the morning can be hard to find.McCree is an easygoing musician that seems to take everything with a relaxed smile no matter what the day may throw at him. Even though he struggles just to get by sometimes, nothing seems to hurt his enthusiasm for life.Can this sweet country soul help the brooding artist come to terms with not only his past, but with himself?Rated for future chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not much I can say for this fic. The idea came to mind after seeing a comic about Hanzo wanting McCree to model naked for him and I decided to twist it into something. This is going to be a slow-paced fic, and it’ll take a longass time before McCree even passes the friend zone with Hanzo. If that isn’t your thing, welp, nothing I can do for ya. And fyi, I know nothing about art and modeling. So if I get things wrong, I apologize. I tried to do my research as much as I could. And hopefully I'm not writing them ooc. Otherwise, enjoy the adventure.
> 
> Also I know bara/bear/chubby/thicc/etc McCree ain’t everyone’s cup of tea. I love me some washboard abs and muscle as much as the next gal, but that’s just how I wanted to depict him for this particular story.
> 
> Title of this fic is inspired by a song of the same name by country singer/songwriter Kacey Musgraves. I find the lyrics and overall message of the song to fit the overall feel of this story.
> 
> Shoutout to Sizarion and my wonderful bf for beta-reading for me.
> 
> Enjoy~

It had already been ten minutes since the start of the session, and still their model had not shown.

Hanzo leaned over from where he sat on his drafting chair in front of his blank canvas and reached for the navy messenger bag that carried all of his art supplies. He opened a side pocket where he kept his wallet and phone and pulled the latter out, turning it on for a brief moment to check the time. A slightly annoyed sigh escaped him.

Correction, it had been fifteen minutes now.

It seemed as if Hanzo’s less than satisfactory day was destined to continue. He had woken up later than intended, his alarm having not gone off. He had immediately jumped into the shower, only to realize he was completely out of his favorite lavender and tea tree oil shampoo. Having changed into a light, long-sleeved shirt and slacks, he left the house and had only gotten a few blocks away before he needed to turn back around to get the wallet that had been forgotten on his kitchen table. Since he skipped breakfast, he ended up having to stop by a nearby doughnut shop to quickly pick up a plain glazed doughnut and a coffee of somewhat lackluster quality that had scalded the roof of his mouth. He stopped by an art store on his way to this afternoon’s class to see about picking up a few things, only to find that they were out of stock of his usual supplies. He was not pleased about deviating from what he knew was tried and true, but he had to make due with a few questionable alternatives. Although their model’s tardiness was not his fault, it still seemed like a cloud of bad luck was following him around that day.

Hanzo put his phone back and sat up before he reached to push his glasses back, they having slipped a bit down his nose just under the bridge piercing he had. A cursory glance around the spacious room made it clear he was not the only one getting impatient. Many of the other aspiring artists scattered around at their own canvases wore annoyed or bored expressions.

Everyone had been waiting in relative silence save for the occasional cough, the general impatient shuffling some made, and the sounds of passing cars that drifted in through the open windows. Some had taken to sketching in notebooks they brought along with them to try and pass the time. There was definitely enough inspiration scattered around the room; there were a few busts and models, some paintings adorning walls, and a few artistic pieces on tables here and there. Still, others wasted time on their phones, laptops, or whatever portable gaming device they brought. Some read quietly to themselves while there were others that simply lazed while they waited. Hanzo was pretty sure someone in the far back had fallen asleep to the gentle, warm Spring breeze that blew in from outside.

At the head of the room, sitting in a rose-colored swivel chair behind an oak desk, the blonde woman teaching the class kept glancing to her watch. She was truly kind with how long she was willing to wait to give their muse a chance to show up. However, at this point it was wasting time for the rest of them and she seemed to realize this as she let out a sigh. She stood, garnering the attention of everyone else in the room.

“Alright class,” she started, giving a contrite smile, “It seems as if our model is a no-show. I apologize for having you all wait so long. I think we’ll have to move on to plan B. So if you would all-”

A knock at the sliding door made her pause, all eyes glancing toward it as it cracked open.

Hanzo watched as a man popped his head in. He had tousled brown hair that framed his face, a trimmed beard and a mustache to match. His chocolate eyes held a sheepish look in them as he glanced around the room a bit before his sights set on the teacher. He cracked a small smile and fully opened the door to walk in. This was no doubt the one they had been waiting for.

Hanzo noted, at least somewhat pleased, that he had already taken the time to change into a robe and sandals in one of the changing rooms. Despite not arriving on time, at least this man was not a total amateur to the aspect of modeling. It would have just added to the troublesome situation if he had been a novice that did not know not to strip in front of the whole class.

The teacher let out a relieved sigh and warmly smiled at the man, “Mr. McCree, was it? Thought for a moment you weren’t going to make it.”

“Apologies fer that, ma’am,” the man said in a deep drawl as he closed the door behind him and made his way into the room, “There was an accident up on 5th ‘n Main. Couldn’t get ‘round it. An’ Jesse’s fine.”

“Jesse, then,” she said, motioning for him to head to the center of the room where there was an elevated stage, “If you would, please? Normally we would have introductions and start with a few gestures as warm up, however it’s best to make up for lost time, yes?”

“Sure thing. Any certain sorta way ya want me?” he asked as he moved to where he needed to be.

“Just do a standing pose. What you do with the rest of your body is up to you as long as you can hold the position for 20 minute intervals.”

Hanzo saw the man nod and flash a little smile. The chairs and easels were all set up in a half-moon fashion around the center stage and, from where he sat, it looked as if he would be having a view of the model from the back. Hanzo watched as the man reached down in front of himself without any hesitation to presumably fiddle with the tie of his robe. Sure enough, the material slipped from his shoulders after a moment and pooled around his feet.

The first thing Hanzo noticed about their subject was the amazingly well-designed prosthetic connected at his left elbow, the skin scarred where flesh met metal. The smooth design and the complex details in the craftsmanship were unlike anything Hanzo had ever seen. That alone was a work of art. There was a tattoo of a skull with wings spread open on either side and a little lock hanging from the skull’s jaw upon his right shoulder. He noted the slight plumpness the man had around his midsection, buttocks and thighs. However, it was clear that he was fairly well-built underneath. He had wonderful musculature in his broad back and shoulders, and his thick arms and legs were as equally toned. He had a fair amount of hair across his body, though not to the point where Hanzo found it repulsive. From where he was sitting, Hanzo could just barely make out a few scars in various spots, some larger and more apparent than others.

From an artistic perspective, Hanzo was pleased.

He immediately started sifting through his supplies. Everyone had the choice to use whatever medium they desired and could capture whatever part of their subject they wished, be it a full body portrait or a focus on a particular body part. He had already decided on using his pastels and was highly interested in reproducing the intricacies of that prosthetic.

Off to the side, the teacher grabbed a little egg timer and set it for twenty minutes. Though this was a long pose, it was necessary to give the model a break. They could not be expected to hold the same pose for an hour or more without rest, after all. After setting the time, she went back to her desk. Reaching out to a wireless audio dock where she had her phone set into, she started playing some soft classical music to fill the otherwise quiet room and add to the creative atmosphere.

After selecting his colors, Hanzo glanced up to check what stance the model had taken. Both of his arms were placed above him. The left, metal one was angled down behind his head and neck with his hand rested between the top of his shoulder blades, stretching out his triceps. The right arm was up over his prosthetic one, his hand positioned over his left elbow and his right forearm resting on his slightly bowed head with his chin tucked towards his chest. He let his back bend slightly in a comfortable and natural way with his legs somewhat spread and his hips cocked to the right. The lazy, stretching pose showed off every dip and ridge of the muscles in his arms, back, and shoulders.

It was also the perfect position for Hanzo to capture that prosthetic.

Hanzo began with a quick, light sketch. He mapped out the broad physique of the model’s upper back and shoulders along with the back of his head. The prosthetic was sketched above at the proper angle, with only the general form taken down. More details would be added as he went along.

For once, he was actually rather inspired. They had a lot of variation with their models. The teacher went out of her way to scout a wide selection of ages, body types, and ethnicities. They actually have had people with artificial limbs before, so it was not the general concept that had Hanzo eagerly leaning towards his canvas. This particular prosthetic was simply a one-of-a-kind thing. It seemed almost unreal, like something one might find in a movie or a video game.

When the rough sketch was completed, Hanzo started on the base that would be his torso. He occasionally looked up to rove his eyes over the model and take in a few points before gluing them back to the canvas. He was aware that he was going a bit slower than usual, and definitely slower than the rest of the people that had raced to make up for the precious lost time. However, he felt compelled to take his time with this to avoid being sloppy. He wanted to do this piece justice for his own sake.

Time seemed to fly by too quickly as the little timer buzzed, signalling the first of the three twenty minute sets was up.

Hanzo leaned back from where he had been slightly hunched over the canvas. Looking over what he had so far, he doubted he would finish this work in the time they had. However, perhaps if he committed it to memory he could finish it in his own time. It had been a while since he added anything new to his portfolio. Depending on how well this turned out, it could very well be a new piece to add to his collection.

Hanzo glanced up as the teacher used some pieces of tape to mark the man’s position so he could return to it after the break. After, he bent over to pick up his robe from the floor to pull it back on, tying it in place and slipping on sandals before turning to look out over the rest of the room. Now came the part that Hanzo was not very fond of.

It was common for models to walk around the room and look over everyone’s work. Some teachers had a rule that the model was not to comment on any of the art, some did not. Their teacher was rather lenient overall, and even encouraged the artists to get to know their subject during break times.

He disliked the feeling of having his work judged by the very one it was depicting. There was an awkwardness in wondering what they thought of how he saw them, since one’s perspective did not always match another’s. Exaggerating a specific aspect of the body could lead some models to feel offended at the liberties the artist took. Hanzo also found the struggle for small talk to be a hindrance to his process. He would much rather keep these sessions on more of an anonymous setup. He was the nameless artist, the model was just an unknown face he could put down to paper.

It seemed that perhaps Hanzo would get his wish as, instead of meandering around the room, the man mumbled something to the teacher. She gave a smile and a nod and then he left the room.

Hanzo took the five to ten minute break to relax. He reached down to grab the water bottle he had sitting by his bag and unscrewed the top to take a refreshing drink. He let the liquid sit in his mouth a bit before swallowing, the piercing on his tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth. As he drank, he discreetly looked around at the pieces the others had been working on out of curiosity. No one was bothering with a full body work, given their time constraints. A couple that had a better view of the model's front were working on a frontal portrait. There were a few side profiles and others were focusing on individual body parts. Some kept it chaste and only depicted him from the waist up, others went bold with their work. Hanzo caught at least one person very blatantly painting a picture of just the man’s backside and thighs.

It was not long until the short break was over and their muse had sauntered back into the room. He dropped his robe yet again and assumed the position he had been in before as everyone settled back down into their seats.

Once again, it was a flurry of quiet activity throughout the room. The gentle hum of music was broken only by the sounds of everyone’s tools of choice against the canvas, like the light scratching of pencil or the wet sound of paint. Everyone was focused on their work as the teacher walked around the room to observe. Occasionally she would pause near someone and offer a bit of advice, but would otherwise let everyone express their own visions freely.

Again, time seemed to move by too quickly as the egg timer went off a second time.

Hanzo examined his work again, having gotten quite a ways further this time around. It was not a mere messy sketch any longer, everything starting to take shape in beautiful color. For the most part, the piece was going as he intended. However, already he could spot a few bits that irked him. Pastels were not exactly easy to erase when mistakes were made, which is why he tried not to make them. Really, he had not made any mistakes, but he was a very critical individual. Though the teacher had complimented his work as she passed by, he held himself to the highest of standards and would not accept anything less than what he considered perfection. Perhaps it was one of the reasons his portfolio tended to be a bit on the empty side, but he could not help it. He was as picky with his own work as he would be with anyone else, if not more.

“That’s lookin’ mighty fine, if ya don’t mind my sayin’ so.”

Hanzo looked up at where the drawling voice came from to find the model standing behind him. He wore a small, lopsided smile as he looked at Hanzo’s work appreciatively. If he had any negative feelings about it, it seemed as if he was good at hiding them.

“Thank you,” Hanzo replied coolly, turning back to face the canvas once more. He somewhat hoped that the man would take the hint that he did not feel like conversing and would be on his way. However, luck did not seem to be on Hanzo’s side as he heard him continue talking.

“Didn’t see anyone else focusin’ on the arm as much as you.”

Hanzo let out a bit of a sigh and glanced back at the man. It was a pity he had to be the talkative type. He almost considered ignoring his comments. Anyone would definitely get the hint to leave a person alone if they received the cold shoulder. However, Hanzo was in a good enough mood that he supposed he could at least humor this man a bit.

“It is… a very unique piece.”

While Hanzo did not necessarily mean it as a compliment so much as a neutral observation, the man’s face lit up anyway. His cheeks dimpled from the smile that set on his face as he rolled up the sleeve of his robe. Hanzo could not help but glance down as he exposed the prosthetic. Close up like this, he could make out even finer details that he missed from across the room. It grabbed his attention completely as Hanzo turned in his chair to fully face the man.

“Glad I put this one on, then~” the man said happily as he flexed his artificial fingers. The movement was so fluid as each segment of the fingers interlocked smoothly, no delay or stuttering whatsoever. While it was not as if Hanzo made a habit of researching or keeping up with what the latest medical advancements were, even he could tell this was not something freely available to the public.

“Got a couple different ones on hand,” the man chuckled, making Hanzo inwardly cringe at the terrible pun, “but I went ‘n picked this one cuz it’s the fanciest one I got. Thought it’d make fer somethin’ interestin’ art-wise.”

Hanzo only gave a hum in response, somewhat letting the words go in one ear and out the other as he looked over the prosthetic. Not only would getting a close look help his reference, but it was rather intriguing in general. It did not seem as if the man was taking offense to his scrutiny either. He seemed very at ease, which only spurred Hanzo to glance up at him.

“May I…?” he asked, hesitantly gesturing to the arm.

The man’s smile did not waver as he held his artificial limb out, “Sure, have at ‘er.”

Hanzo needed no other prompting as he leaned closer and reached out to take hold of the prosthetic. He examined it with both sight and touch as he mapped out each little detail. Up close, he noticed a slight bit of wear around the joints of the fingers and wrist as well as a few light scratches on the surface. Though it seemed well-used, it was kept in good condition overall. The metal was polished and cool to the touch as Hanzo purposefully moved the man’s fingers, noting how each part worked together. He wanted to lock it away in his mind for when he would finish working on his piece at home.

“Name’s Jesse by the way. Jesse McCree,” the man--McCree--said above him.

Hanzo was too distracted in his inspection to really give any more than a curt response, “Hanzo.”

“Well nice t’ meet ya, Hanzo,” McCree said with a chuckle.

Hanzo gave a little hum in acknowledgement as his exploration moved from the hand and fingers of the prosthetic to the forearm. He could not help but wonder what the internal workings were like. The inside was no doubt just as complex as the outer casing was. Hanzo’s hands and eyes trailed higher still to overlook where the prosthetic fitted to his arm. He seemed to forget his manners in his critical examination as his fingers smoothed over the puffy, scarred tissue that was visible.

“Ya always get this intimate with yer models?”

Hanzo paused and looked up at that comment. A small frown settled on his face when he saw McCree was watching him with a lazy grin that held a teasing edge to it. He became aware of how close he was to this stranger, who was still nude under the robe. His actions indeed had pushed boundaries, even though the other did not seem to mind. Immediately, Hanzo withdrew his hands and pulled back a bit from him as a feeling of slight embarrassment cropped up.

“My apologies,” he muttered tersely, only to receive a pleasant chuckle.

“Ah, don’t worry ‘bout it. Ain’t nothin’,” McCree smiled before he leaned a bit closer and wiggled his synthetic fingers, “If ya want, I could pop this puppy off fer ya t’ handle yerself~”

Hanzo inwardly cringed again and leaned further away, the frown only deepening as he spoke, “Do you always do that?”

“Do what? Play pass the prosthetic?”

“Well… that, yes,” Hanzo said as he wrinkled his nose a bit in distaste, “However, I had meant the terrible puns.”

“Terrible? I think ya meant t’ say comedy gold,” McCree chuckled as he casually slipped his hands into the pockets of his robe.

“... Really?” Hanzo said blankly. He was by no means a humorous person, but even he knew that puns were at the bottom of the barrel of comedy.

“Well, I suppose some folks can’t appreciate a good pun every now ‘n then,” McCree pondered aloud for a moment before a grin spread across his face again. He pulled his synthetic hand out of his pocket and wiggled his fingers, “But on the other hand-”

Hanzo let out a small sigh that eased into a light groan of irritation as he reached up to rub at his temple. He could already feel a headache coming on from this man. What little friendliness and patience he had to start with was beginning to rapidly wane. Even if McCree had been nice enough to let him look over the prosthetic up close, it did not make him any less annoying.

“Please stop. I am already beginning to regret meeting you,” Hanzo muttered, a slight glare setting upon his face.

At that comment, he heard McCree give a loud bark of laughter in his chest, causing some other people in the room to curiously glance in their direction. The extra unwanted attention irked Hanzo, yet he could not help but raise an eyebrow. He had blatantly said something impolite--and very much meant it-- yet this man did not seem phased by it in the slightest. It was not as if Hanzo gave off a very friendly aura, and he preferred it that way. He could be downright savage to get the particularly annoying types to leave him alone. Perhaps McCree did not realize his annoyance or maybe he did not care. Either way, the man’s smile had yet to fade even slightly despite Hanzo’s rudeness. It was rather peculiar and somehow only served to make Hanzo even more annoyed.

“Alright, alright, I hear ya,” McCree chuckled as he lifted his hands in defeat, “I’ll take it easy on the puns. Offer’s still on the table, though.”

Hanzo blinked as he momentarily forgot about the “offer” in question. He could only assume that McCree meant his comment about taking his arm off. Hanzo had thought he was joking, but it seemed as if he was really offering to detach the prosthetic and hand it over to him if he wished. Who on earth would so freely make such an offer to a complete stranger?

“That will not be necessary,” Hanzo said, slightly bewildered but keeping the tone out of his voice to keep up his usual neutral front.

“Well, suit yerself then,” McCree gave a lazy shrug, a smile still on his face, “Anyway, think the break’s ‘bout up. Gotta get back t’ my spot. But hey, after we’re done here, ya got anythin’ goin’ on? Was wonderin’ if maybe I could take ya out fer lunch?”

Hanzo was caught slightly off guard by McCree’s words to the point it showed, unable to hide a hint of surprise flickering across his face. That question had come completely out of nowhere. It was not as if he had never been asked for a casual lunch before. However, he only just met McCree ten to fifteen minutes ago. There was also something weird about the way he worded his question that Hanzo could not quite put his finger on.

With Hanzo’s mouth hanging open slightly, he was unable to even get a word out before McCree held a hand up and continued, “Ya don’t gotta go ‘n answer right this sec, tho. Think on it a bit ‘n get back t’ me after we wrap this up, yea?”

Hanzo could only give a short nod. He watched McCree smile before lifting up two fingers and giving some sort of a salute or wave. With that, he turned and made his way back towards the center of the room to the stage, leaving Hanzo to his thoughts.

_No._

That was his immediate thought about McCree’s offer. Hanzo was sure that no amount of thinking on it would change that, either. Admittedly, he was hungry. The unfulfilling breakfast had not satisfied him at all, and he would likely stop somewhere for lunch anyway. However, he found McCree to be rather annoying. The man had been nothing but kind since he introduced himself, but there was just something about him that irked Hanzo. God forbid he went to lunch with McCree only to have to sit through more excruciating puns.

For the time being, Hanzo cleared his mind. It was still the middle of a class and he had to get back to his work. After McCree had dropped his robe once more and resumed his pose on the center platform, Hanzo turned back to his canvas. He took a brief moment to take a deep breath as he closed his eyes. He held onto it for a few seconds before letting it go with a little sigh as his eyes opened again. Having calmed down a bit, he went back to business.

Hanzo was still irked though, possibly even more now. After talking with McCree and catching a glimpse of his personality, the piece he had been working on now seemed… off. This was why he always preferred to keep things on a more anonymous level. When you got to know someone’s character, it made depicting that person harder. You had to capture their personality in the image accurately. Hanzo knew he was a great artist, but he had difficulties when trying to depict more emotion in his works, both in the face and body language. It was one of the few things holding him back and was one of the reasons he preferred doing landscapes or still-lifes. It was also the reason he had started taking these classes; he hoped that being forced to work with people would break him of this issue. It would only help him to get better in the end.

There was not much that he could do about it now, though. He was more than half way through, and he was not about to waste time going back to try and fix the things he now perceived as errors. Perhaps this piece would not make it into his portfolio after all. However, it was still good practice. Practice makes perfect, and perfection was what he strived for.

Time seemed to pass by slowly during the last twenty minutes of this session. Everyone in the room was wrapping up their work. Some had finished early and were shuffling around, packing up their supplies. Others were rushing and struggling to try to finish in the last few moments. Hanzo was doing neither of these things; he likely would not be finished when the timer went off, but he was in no rush either. He had nowhere in particular to be after this class, as the rest of his schedule for the day was free.

When he had nothing better to do, it usually meant Hanzo would be at home, alone. He did not have many, if any, friends to speak of or people to socialize with. He lived a very solitary lifestyle with each day generally following a similar pattern. He only left the comfort of his home for things that absolutely needed to be done, like going to classes or shopping. When he had free time, one of the few things he enjoyed doing was attending an art exhibit. Otherwise, he enjoyed quietly reading at home or working on his craft. Perhaps sometimes it did become a bit boring and maybe even lonely, but it was not as if he was entirely alone. Hanzo had his pretty, emerald green Betta fish, Wasabi, to welcome him home and keep him company.

Hanzo glanced up when the little egg timer went off again. The teacher, who had spent the last segment of the class sitting at her desk, stood up. She leaned over and pressed a button on her phone, silencing the music that had been playing nonstop before speaking up over the shuffling of others in the room who were getting ready to leave.

“Alright, class, that about wraps up this session. I’d like to thank you all for coming. If you’d like to sign up for another class, you all know how to reach me. The same single-session price would apply. However, if any of you find that you want to make a habit out of this, you can sign up for the extended program. Otherwise, it was nice to have you all here,” she addressed the room with a smile before she then turned to McCree in specific, “And I’d like to thank you for coming to model for us. If you’d like to do it again some time, let me know. If you do decide to do it again, though, I’d ask you to please be more punctual.”

Hanzo watched as McCree pulled his robe on and gave a sheepish grin, “Will do, ma’am. Thank ya fer havin’ me.”

As Hanzo had somewhat been expecting, McCree had turned and seemed to make a beeline straight for him while people started getting up to leave. Hanzo sighed a bit, wondering why the man could not even go and put his proper clothes on before coming over to him. Although it did not matter anyway, as Hanzo’s answer would have been the same either way.

“So,” McCree said with a smile when he got over to him, “whadya say? Ya down t’ get lunch with me?”

Hanzo opened his mouth, his first instinct was to reject the offer, yet something made him hesitate. A small frown settled on his face as he contemplated to himself. Perhaps it actually had been a bit too long since he had human interaction. These days, everything seemed to blend together, one day after the other. Even though he was perfectly fine with his solitude, Hanzo was beginning to be impacted by it. His work was suffering of late, having little to no inspiration for his art. Despite keeping a calm and neutral front most of the time, his mood had been degrading little by little. He could not remember the last time he had gone out to a place that was not art-related just to relax. Humans were communal creatures. Even those who enjoyed solitude needed some socialization every now and then.

McCree was a bit annoying, but perhaps Hanzo could look past that, even just for a day. There was no rule saying that he had to see McCree ever again after they had lunch. It could be nice to just sit down for a meal with another person, even one whose idea of comedy was puns.

“I… will have lunch with you, yes,” Hanzo said after a long pause.

The degree to which McCree smiled seemed far too happy within Hanzo’s eyes. It was just lunch, yet the man looked as if he had just won a million dollars.

“Peachy! I know a great place jus’ up the road a ways,” McCree said while clapping his hands together happily, making a rather odd sort of sound of flesh on metal, “Lemme go ‘n get changed while ya get all yer things together. I’ll meet ya out front.”

Hanzo gave a nod and watched as McCree turned to leave the room, excusing himself past a petite girl that was blocking the doorway while talking to the teacher about something. By that point, half the people in the class had left. Hanzo glanced back at the work he had done. It was far from finished, but it would do for now.

As he went about packing everything away, he could not help but wonder what he had just gotten himself into. He just said yes to lunch with a complete stranger. A completely irrational part of his mind screamed that McCree could have been a psychopathic murderer and he had just made himself the man’s latest target. Of course, the more sensible part of Hanzo brushed such thoughts away. It was complete nonsense. This would just be a hopefully pleasant meal with a new acquaintance.

What was the worst that could happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked hard on this chapter, and have so much planned out for future chapters. So I hope y'all enjoyed. Next chapter will be in McCree's pov. Leave a kudos and/or a comment if you liked it and want more. If you think I should add any tags, lemme know.
> 
> Thanks for readin~ ♥


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree gets to know the attractive artist on the way to their little luncheon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this chapter included the interaction taking place at the restaurant. However, it was getting extremely long, so I decided to split the original chapter into chapters 2 and 3 respectively. This chapter is mostly just a lot of dialogue and filler, with not a whole lot else happening. As I mentioned, this fic is going to be very slow paced and slow burn. So expect a lot of chapters similar to this one lol.
> 
> Thanks to my bf for beta-reading part of this chapter. However not all of it could be pre-read. So if anyone finds any spelling errors or anything, point it out to me and I'll fix it up.
> 
> Enjoy~

McCree couldn’t believe how lucky his day had been.  
  
Despite the traffic accident that had made him late to his modeling gig, everything else had flowed as smooth as melted butter from the moment he’d woken up. His sleep was deep and peaceful, like a bear that was in the middle of hibernating, and he’d woken up more well rested than he had in weeks. There was a delicious feast for breakfast, courtesy one of his two roommates, that had made his mouth water the instant he’d gotten a whiff of it. Checking through his texts while stuffing himself, he’d found a message from a business he’d played at recently with a request for another performance. They even offered a slightly better payout to boot. The little backache he’d been having the past week after taking a bit of a tumble down the stairs of his apartment complex was finally easing up. Even his mouthy habit was on the light side, not having felt overly compelled to occupy his antsy teeth and tongue with anything. All in all, it was a damn fine day.  
  
Now to top it off, he’d scored a date with a guy who was drop dead gorgeous.  
  
The second he’d stepped foot into the room for class about an hour and a half ago and had skimmed the room, that man had stood out from everyone else. He had looked up from behind his canvas with dark, piercing eyes set into a hard, yet attractive face. Their gaze had locked for barely a second, but it was long enough for McCree to feel his heart jump up into his throat. Those eyes, for as briefly as they were on him, burned through him deep. Actually, there was something about the man that seemed kind of familiar, yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.  
  
Either way, he hadn’t had the time to dillydally since he was there to do a job. He had put aside those thoughts and had gone about saying hello to the lady he’d met for coffee a week ago after messaging back and forth about job specifics. She was just as pleasant and polite as she’d been back then, and thankfully forgiving of his tardiness.  
  
McCree hadn’t been shy when taking up a pose on the center stage; it wasn’t his first time doing this sort of thing, although he was still fairly new at it in general. Since he had time to kill while just standing there, he’d let his mind wander to that man. He probably had a good view of his backside at the moment, which he was thankful for. If McCree was facing in his direction, he didn’t know if he could stop himself from staring at him.  
  
McCree had debated in his mind on what to do. He really wanted to say hello to the guy, maybe even ask him out on a date, but how did one go about doing that exactly? He wasn’t a stranger to asking out another man. However, under these circumstances, it could turn out very badly. After all, who would agree to a date with someone they just stared at, standing there naked for over an hour? Talk about awkward. Moreover, were there any rules about the models asking the artists out? He hadn’t even thought to ask.  
  
When the first break from his pose had popped up, he’d been tempted to make a beeline straight for that man. He was eager to chat him up and see what he was working on, but he had a slightly bigger need and had excused himself for a quick stop to the bathroom and a smoke break. It wasn’t at all about the slight bit of nervousness that had settled in his stomach, nope.  
  
The second break, McCree had managed to psych himself up enough to take a wander among the artists with the intent of making a long stop by one in particular. He’d glanced at some of the work here and there, as to not make it seem like he was just barreling straight towards the man right out of the gate.  
  
It’s not like McCree knew much about art. He couldn’t draw a stick figure to save his own life. Yet, looking at the different renditions being done of him, all of the things that the artists were working on looked equally amazing. There was even one guy that was painting a picture of his ass that almost made McCree laugh out loud. It was so amazing and flattering he was tempted to ask if he could buy it after the guy was finished. It would look great framed and hung in the living room for all to take a gander at. He could imagine the terrible fuss his roommates would make over it before forcing him to take it down.  
  
When he’d finally circled around the room to the subject of his interest, he’d been able to get a better look at the man. McCree didn’t say hello right away and had just given him a quick look over. Those dark eyes of his were just as intense, if not even more, as he’d been scrutinizing his own work. His face was sharp and his cheekbones high with a beautiful complexion. The sides of his head were perfectly buzzed and some of his raven black hair fell into his face almost teasingly. The rest of his hair that was tied up with a clip looked so shiny and silky that McCree had the urge to run his fingers through it. His beard and mustache were trimmed to perfection, far more well-groomed than McCree kept his own. He had various piercings, from the single bridge piercing behind his glasses to the multiple ones in each ear. He wore a crisp, white, long-sleeved button up that fit him like it was tailor made. It was tucked into a pair of clean black slacks that were held up by a belt. McCree couldn’t find a single mark or wrinkle on his clothes, and his shoes were as equally well-kept; the dark dress shoes that peeked out from the cuff of his pants were shiny with not a scuff on them. Taking in his whole image, he looked like he could be a businessman, were it not for the choice of hairstyle and the piercings. Hell, he could have been a model himself.  
  
For the first time, at the far back of his mind, McCree had the smallest hint of a thought that he was aiming for someone way out of his league.  
  
He hadn’t let that thought linger long before he’d shaken it off and seized the opportunity to speak up. When the man glanced at him and hadn’t responded right away, McCree thought he was going to straight up be ignored. The stare he’d been pinned with was so calculating, and he could sense a bit of annoyance in those dark eyes. He couldn’t lie though; that look had made his stomach flip a bit and had made the nerves he’d been keeping at bay start to sizzle up. McCree could only take a wild guess at what ran through the man’s mind as he was looked over with that hard gaze.  
  
McCree almost let out an actual sigh of relief when he’d gotten a reply to his comment. The guy’s voice perfectly matched the way he looked too; clipped and hard, yet alluringly smooth. It was just another tick to add onto the growing list of attraction.  
  
McCree had been more than welcome in showing off his prosthetic, which seemed to interest the man--Hanzo, he’d learned--to no end. The little conversation they had, however short, was pleasant. At least for McCree it was; Hanzo’s annoyance seemed to be a constant factor, especially when he started to bring out the puns. He had wondered again whether or not it was a good idea to ask Hanzo out. He seemed like a pretty stand-offish guy, and McCree was fairly sure he would be rejected.  
  
Life was all about taking risks though, right?  
  
When McCree offered to take Hanzo out for lunch, he was already expecting a solid no. He’d set his shoulders and been ready to smile and wave off the rejection. It would have been understandable, after all. Not many people would agree to any sort of outing with someone they just met. Hell, even McCree didn’t know if he’d agree to a date on such short-notice with a guy he barely knew.  
  
He didn’t usually ask someone out within a half hour of meeting them either. Going to a bar with the singular intent of having company for one night was a different sort of thing. Those types of encounters happened quickly and ended just as quickly, but this wasn’t like that; McCree was asking him out on an actual date in such a short time. McCree had admittedly never done anything like that before. There was just something that had immediately attracted him to Hanzo and he wasn’t the type to ignore his gut instinct.  
  
He had been nearly floored with delighted surprise when Hanzo had agreed.  
  
McCree was still marveling at his luck as he made his way to the changing room where he’d left his things. There was a bit of a quick bounce to his step as he entered the room. It was a small space specifically for the models to change outside of the main rooms. There were a few small lockers lined up against the walls for free use to store personal belongings, some comfortable chairs here and there to lounge around in during breaks, and a couple vending machines against the back wall, one with drinks and the other with snacks. The single, high-set window let in a bit of light along with the few fluorescent lamps hanging from the ceiling that gave a low buzz to match the quiet hum of the vending machines. Toward the back of the room were some simple changing areas made from red, velvety drapes that hung from poles along the ceiling down to the floor to form little enclosed stalls.  
  
McCree went over to the locker he’d stored his things in and opened it to find his blue cinch bag with his clothes and his boots right where he left them. Grabbing them, he ambled over to one of the empty changing areas and pulled the drape closed so he could get dressed in private, even if there wasn’t anyone else in the room anyway. In a happy mood, he hummed a little tune to himself as he dropped his robe and pulled his clothes from his bag.  
  
He slipped on his white boxers before grabbing his black t-shirt and pulling it on, the material stretching tight around his biceps and chest. There was a design on the front in faded white and yellow and a couple dragonflies on either side of text that read “100% country as fuck” in big, bold lettering. He took his fitted, yet comfortably worn pair of faded jeans and pulled them on, zipping and buttoning them up. They were a tad on the tight side since he’d gained a few more pounds over the last month, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. He snagged the red, plaid button-up and pulled it on over his tee. He didn’t bother to button it and just rolled the sleeves up past his elbows. Though he had on two layers of shirts, both were light and airy enough for the season. He pulled his keys, phone, and wallet from a side pouch and slipped them into his back pockets, not really thinking to check to make sure everything was there. The lockers didn’t necessarily have locks, but he doubted someone would come in and take things. Maybe he was just too good-natured and trusting though. Either way, he finished changing by slipping on his socks and boots and then put the robe and slippers he’d brought from home into the cinch bag and slung it over his shoulder.  
  
If anyone would have accused him of speed-walking just a bit too quickly out of the changing room and down the halls, he wouldn’t have been able to lie. He couldn’t help himself though; part of him expected Hanzo to be gone by the time he made it out to the front of the building. Maybe McCree was just looking into it too much, but he usually could read people fairly well. The man had seemed rather hesitant even after he’d agreed to the little date. He seemed borderline suspicious, even. He was more skittish than a raccoon caught digging in a dumpster, but maybe that was just his personality; paranoid and not easily trusting of others.  
  
McCree was being a bit paranoid himself though, wasn’t he?  
  
Either way, it seemed like McCree didn’t need to fret over it. As soon as he made it out the door, he spotted Hanzo. He was easily picked out from the few other people walking around outside the front entrance.  
  
Hanzo was perched on the edge of a small, marble statue out in front of the building. The statue was some strange cluster of shapes that McCree could only begin to guess what the hell they were. Still, it looked nice enough. The view was only made nicer with Hanzo sitting there, one leg crossed over the other as he seemed to absentmindedly browse his phone. Maybe it was McCree’s imagination, but the man just seemed to look all the more attractive out in the bright light of a beautiful sunny day.  
  
“Sorry if I kept ya waitin’,” McCree started as he walked over. Though he’d been quick to change and move through the building, he returned his pace back to his usual lazy gait. He didn’t want to seem overly eager and end up scaring the man off.  
  
When Hanzo looked up at him, McCree didn’t miss the way his eyes shifted to give him a brief look over. Though the other’s face remained neutral, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of nervousness run through him again. McCree became aware of every little messy wrinkle in his t-shirt, every rip and tear through the legs of his jeans, every scuff on his worn boots. He even remembered that small hint of a ketchup stain on his plaid button-up and could only hope that it blended into the red color of the material.  
  
Once again, McCree felt like he was nowhere close to Hanzo’s league.  
  
As he did his best to shake such thoughts away, McCree couldn’t help but notice that Hanzo was missing something that he’d been wearing earlier. He blinked, voice curious as he spoke, “Took yer glasses off?”  
  
McCree watched the subtle shift in Hanzo’s gaze as an eyebrow twitched to raise slightly. Just like earlier, it seemed to McCree that Hanzo was mulling over his words carefully, even though he didn’t think it was that complicated a question. Maybe it was a dumb question? It wouldn’t have been the first time McCree ended up being Captain Obvious.  
  
“I do not require them on a constant basis,” Hanzo said matter-of-factly as he pocketed his phone and moved to stand.  
  
“Oh? So ya can see jus’ fine without ‘em?” he asked, the question once again seeming dumb even to his own ears as soon as the words passed his lips. He couldn’t help it though; sometimes his mouth just had a habit of running without first stopping to check in with his brain.  
  
Hanzo seemed to grow a little bit irked with this idle chit-chat and let out a sigh before answering, “I am not blind. My vision is acceptable enough without them, albeit not perfect. However, for things that require more clarity, the extra assistance is necessary.”  
  
A smile spread across McCree’s face. Even with the obvious annoyance the other presented, he’d still answered nonetheless. On another note, he found the man’s proper speech and whatnot to be kind of interesting. It just seemed to fit him in some strangely pleasant way. Even better to note, that was the longest sequence of words he’d managed to get out of the man so far.  
  
Truth be told, McCree was actually rather nervous, although he hid it well. It had been a long while since the last time he’d gone out with a man, one-night stands not counting. He’d been in a bit of a dry spell in the romance department. It was hard enough in general for a gay man to scope out a potential date just out and about on an average day. Sure there were phone apps, gay clubs, gay bars and the like, but he’d come to find that the men that frequented those places more often than not just wanted to get laid. McCree liked sex as much as the next guy, but he wasn’t as young as he used to be. These days, he was more interested in having a stable relationship with someone over having fleeting flings with many different someones.  
  
Even though he’d just met Hanzo and was definitely getting ahead of himself, a man could dream.  
  
“Fair ‘nuff,” he started as he reached up to scratch his beard absentmindedly while changing the subject, “Now, I said this lil place ain’t far, but it’d still be a bit a walkin’. I don’t mind takin’ a lil stroll with ya, but if ya want, we can cut the time ‘n drive.”  
  
He waited patiently as Hanzo seemed to deliberate on the offer for a bit. A light breeze blew by, catching up the tails of McCree’s shirt and blowing the bit of hair not tied up in Hanzo’s clip to drift into his face. McCree watched him reach up to brush it back before he finally gave a little shrug, the movement rolling smooth across his shoulders.  
  
“The decision is yours, I suppose… I do not care in either case,” Hanzo said lightly, “At any rate, I did not come here in a vehicle.”  
  
“Walked here? Ya must live close by then, eh?” McCree asked. He was just making some small talk and had thought his question was innocent enough, but the little frown that seemed to settle on Hanzo’s face made him think otherwise.  
  
“Ah, I ain’t tryin’ t’ pry,” he amended quickly, “Not tryin’ t’ find out where ya live or anythin’ like that. Honest. Jus’ gettin’ t’ know ya is all.”  
  
“Mm,” Hanzo gave a low hum and paused, eyeing McCree up with that hard gaze of his that again made a tight feeling settle in his gut. It probably should have made him feel intimidated or something, like he assumed it would most people. Even with just this idle conversation, Hanzo’s stare was intense and seemed to burrow deep into McCree like a worm in an apple. It was critical and harsh and fell into the “if looks could kill” category. Yet McCree’s smile only grew instead; it was inexplicable even to himself.  
  
McCree wondered if this was what people meant when they talked about that whole “love at first sight” sort of deal.  
  
“I took public transport part of the way and walked the remaining distance,” Hanzo said slowly after a long moment of silence. He paused again as if trying to sort out his thoughts before he added on, “... My car has not been starting recently. I need to have it looked at, however I have not had the time to do so.”  
  
McCree ended up blathering on before he could stop himself, “I could take a look at it fer ya some time, if ya like. I’m pretty handy.”  
  
Hanzo’s gaze narrowed on him as his frown only seemed to deepen. McCree was a mite confused until it clicked in his head what he’d said; a pun.  
  
“I swear I didn’ mean that one,” he said with a laugh, “Honest! I am handy! Know a thing or two ‘bout cars. Worked in a garage fer a while. Wouldn’t charge ya nothin’.”  
  
Hanzo huffed a bit and crossed his arms, the hard look on his face not leaving as he spoke in a clipped and tight voice, “I do not believe it is appropriate to have a complete stranger come and poke around with my personal belongings.”  
  
McCree couldn’t help but give a bit of a teasing smile, “We ain’t total strangers now, are we? Ya seen me naked, after all~”  
  
McCree was only speaking the truth, but the look that crossed over Hanzo’s face made him regret throwing out that little comment. He laughed and waved a hand in the air before the other man could say something that would be no doubt biting.  
  
“Either way, suit yerself,” McCree said lightheartedly, “Walkin’d be ‘bout a half hour away, give or take a few. If yer hungry in a hurry though, I can give ya a ride.”  
  
McCree had to bite the inside of his own cheek to resist the urge to turn that comment into a far more dirty remark. He might have been a gentleman seeking romance, but that didn’t mean he didn’t greatly enjoy flirting. Normally he wouldn’t hold himself back from it either, but he was pretty sure that such comments wouldn’t be at all well-received with how tightly wound up Hanzo seemed to be. McCree didn’t want to ruin what little chance he had.  
  
Once again, Hanzo paused for a long moment and contemplated over the question. The feeling that the man would change his mind at any second lingered in McCree’s thoughts. While he kept a pleasant smile on his face, he couldn’t help but feel a little worried about it. Though he always did his best to remain easy-going and relaxed on the outside, he was as susceptible to any range of negative emotions and thoughts as any other person. Yet, once again, his thoughts were wonderfully proven wrong as the other spoke.  
  
“Very well. Where is your car?” Hanzo said lightly.  
  
McCree gave a little chuckle as he started walking toward the small parking lot out in front of the building, “Ain’t got a car.”  
  
“... You… You just said…?” came Hanzo’s perplexed reply from behind him.  
  
McCree glanced over his shoulder to find a confused frown settled onto the other man’s face that matched the tone in his voice. He couldn’t help the smile that spread on his own face as he fished out his keys from his pocket.  
  
“Said I could give ya a ride,” McCree said with a hint of a teasing tone, “Didn’t say I had a car.”  
  
“Whatever,” Hanzo huffed and rolled his eyes, seemingly exasperated, “Your vehicle of choice, then.”  
  
McCree let out a little laugh at the annoyance in the other’s tone. He didn’t have to turn around to look and see if Hanzo was following him; he could tell by the sound of his footsteps behind him that he was. They made their way through the parking lot, passing by a wide variety of different cars, trucks, and minivans in varying colors. Each one was passed by, McCree having been too late to get a closer spot. He had to take one at the very back of the lot, not that he minded the walk. The tense silence from the one behind him only seemed to grow as McCree stopped walking to pause at the end of one particular spot.  
  
Parked there was a motorcycle. It was a Harley Davidson cruiser that was white chrome from tip to tail with a few black accents. The black leather seating had no doubt heated up in the sun, but McCree was used to that by now. The black leather saddlebags on either side were decorated with a few silver pins and buckles and had tassels that hung down from the flap. He’d tricked it out a bit with different parts, upgrading it from when he’d originally bought it a few years back. He’d even replaced the plain, rear view side mirrors with a chrome set that looked like skulls. He thought they looked badass. Not a mark or scratch could be seen anywhere on it, every part buffed and shined up perfectly. He always made sure to keep his baby in pristine working condition.  
  
Yet, as McCree turned to look at the one behind him, it seemed that his enthusiasm was not shared. Hanzo stared at the bike with the deepest frown that he had seen him give yet. The look made McCree’s own smile falter a bit as his brows knit together with a bit of a confused frown of his own.  
  
“Somethin’ the matter?”  
  
Hanzo didn’t look at him; he only continued to stare hard at the bike as he spoke in a flat tone, “A motorcycle…”  
  
“... Yeah?” McCree blinked a bit.  
  
“... You expect me to ride on that with you?”  
  
McCree actually felt a tiny bit offended as he spoke, “What’s wrong with Silver?”  
  
At that comment, Hanzo paused and finally looked away from the motorcycle and to McCree instead, “... You named your motorcycle ‘Silver’?”  
  
“Well… yeah. Perfect name, ain’t it?” McCree said with a slight chuckle as he gestured to the bike, “Plus, ya ever seen ‘The Lone Ranger’?”  
  
As Hanzo slowly shook his head, McCree smiled and went off topic as he started to blather, “Oh, it’s a great ol’ show ‘bout a fella named John Reid, though he calls himself The Lone Ranger--’n there ya got the show’s name. An’ he’s got a native pal named Tonto, an’ they go off t’ get vengeance fer Reid’s brothers all bein’ killed off by this gang a bastards. But that ain’t important. He’s got this horse, y’see. An’--”  
  
Hanzo held up a hand, effectively stopping McCree’s ramblings. His eyes were closed as he took in a deep breath, as if trying to absorb the situation. McCree pursed his lips a bit as he tilted his head to the side. Reaching up to scratch his fingers through his hair, he realized he’d gotten a bit carried away.  
  
“Ah, sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled with a slight bit of embarrassment, “His horse is called Silver… Jus’ thought… was cool... Anyhow. What’s the problem?”  
  
Hanzo opened his eyes as he sucked in a breath and seemed to hold it. He gave McCree an odd look that he couldn’t understand, unable to identify the feeling behind his gaze. With the man not giving him an answer right away, McCree could only begin to assume what the issue was.  
  
“Have ya never rode one before?” McCree said lightly, “If safety’s yer concern, it’s perfectly safe, I assure ya. I’m a careful driver. An’ I got a helmet. Jus’ one. I don’t mind goin’ without it fer yer sake tho.”  
  
Hanzo still wore a bit of a frown, though his brow arched up slightly as he gave McCree a very perplexed sort of look, “That is not--”  
  
McCree cut in with a little smile as another thought popped into his head, “Or if yer scared, ya don’t gotta worry. I won’t go too fast. An’ it ain’t like ya’d go 'n fall off or anythin’, long as ya hold on tight.”  
  
“That is exactly the issue,” Hanzo quickly bit out in a tone that was growing more annoyed.  
  
McCree let his own eyebrow raise a bit, “Fallin’ off?”  
  
Hanzo let out a sigh as he reached up to rub at his temple out of exasperation, “Must I spell it out for you?”  
  
A small frown settled on McCree’s face at the other’s words. If it wasn’t a safety issue or a fear of motorcycles, then what was the prob--  
  
_Oh._  
  
Realization dawned on McCree of what the actual problem was; Hanzo didn’t want to be in such close proximity to him. If they took his bike to the restaurant, Hanzo would have to sit behind him and hold onto him. The thought hadn’t even crossed McCree’s mind as an issue because he hadn’t seen it as one. He was a person who was comfortable with physical contact in general, and could even be rather clingy with certain people. Hanzo obviously wasn’t comfortable with that.  
  
“Right, I hear ya,” McCree gave a little apologetic smile, not taking any offense as he pocketed his keys, “Walkin’ it is, then.”  
  
Hanzo gave a sigh of what McCree could only assume was relief and nodded quietly. With that little moment wrapped up, he turned to start walking. Despite the awkwardness, it seemed Hanzo hadn’t changed his mind as he moved to walk beside him. McCree couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief for that. For now, he was fine to let there be a moment of silence as they walked to let things ease up a bit. It also gave him opportunity to discreetly glance over at Hanzo.  
  
Standing up close to him like this, McCree couldn’t help but happily notice the height difference. He wasn’t a particularly tall man by any means at a mere six foot one. Although it seemed the norm these days for people to want tall partners, McCree actually liked them shorter. So that was just another little bonus to add onto the initial attraction he had to this man. Even the way Hanzo walked was something that caught his attention. While McCree’s gait was lazy and loose, Hanzo carried himself high and seemed to walk with a sort of purpose that only someone full of confidence and etiquette could pull off. Hanzo clearly had both of those things in spades.  
  
McCree tore his eyes away as he saw those dark eyes start to shift in his direction. He didn’t want to be caught staring. Instead, his attention went to their surroundings as they walked at a leisurely pace.  
  
It was a beautiful Spring day. Not a cloud was up in that pretty blue sky and the temperature was pleasantly even. It was neither too warm or too chilly. Birds were chirping and flying overhead between the trees that were set in the sidewalk every fifteen feet or so. The light breeze rustled the freshly budding leaves on the trees to add to the chorus of sounds. The traffic from earlier on had seemed to die down, reducing the amount of honking and general vehicular noise. There was still plenty of chatter on this side of town; all the schools and shops were bustling that Thursday afternoon. Plenty of people were walking along the sidewalks to get to their own different destinations, like doing some afternoon shopping or going to business lunches. Food places were full up around this time, various smells of different types of cuisine drifting in the breeze as they passed by. It was already making McCree’s stomach rumble with hunger.  
  
“So,” he started up some small talk as they walked along the sidewalk in hopes of distracting his stomach, “How long ya been doin’ art?”  
  
Hanzo glanced at him out of the corner of his eye for a small moment as they walked before looking ahead again. Perhaps it was the topic or maybe his tenseness had just eased up after they’d started walking for a bit, but McCree was pleased to notice he answered quicker and in an easier tone.  
  
“A little over seven years,” Hanzo stated evenly.  
  
McCree let out a low whistle of appreciation, “Damn. That long?”  
  
Hanzo gave a low, short laugh as his lip quirked up in what McCree assumed to be a little smile of sorts as he spoke, “Considering my age, it is not a long time at all. There are those that have practiced their art since childhood. I was an extremely late bloomer when it came to... indulging in my creativity.”  
  
“Seven years is still a hell of a lot a time. That’s seven years more ‘n I got doin’ anythin’ artsy,” McCree said with a laugh, “How old are ya, if ya don’t mind my askin’?”  
  
“Thirty eight.”  
  
McCree had to do a double take. He looked over at Hanzo with raised eyebrows, his surprise clearly written on his face. The other man noticed his look and seemed to grow a bit tense.  
  
“... Is there a problem?” he started, but McCree was quick to cut him off.  
  
“No, no! Course not,” McCree said hurriedly with a shake of his head, “I mean, I wouldn’a guessed! I thought ya woulda been younger than me. Ya don’t look a day over thirty.”  
  
The tenseness that had crept into Hanzo’s shoulders eased up a bit at McCree’s comment. He seemed to let out a little sigh before he gave a chuckle, “Flattery will get you nowhere.”  
  
“Hey, it ain’t flattery if it’s the truth,” McCree gave a little laugh of his own.  
  
“Mm,” Hanzo hummed lightly, “And you? You are younger, I take it?”  
  
“Not by much. Thirty-seven,” McCree shrugged with a little lopsided smile before continuing with the original subject, “Either way, don’t matter yer age. Yer a damn fine artist. Dunno if it means much, but I thought yer picture was the best outta the ones I saw.”  
  
As they stopped at a crosswalk to wait for their chance to cross the busy street, McCree glanced out of the corner of his eye towards the other man to see how his compliment landed. His smile grew as he saw Hanzo seem to preen at the comment. Apparently this artist had a bit of an ego to him, and McCree was more than happy to stroke it.  
  
“Thank you,” Hanzo said sincerely, “However, I still have much to learn until I rise to the level of mastery I aspire to.”  
  
“Whaddya aimin’ at?” McCree asked casually, “Gonna get yer work in a fancy museum or somethin’?”  
  
“Is that not the dream of every artist?” Hanzo said with a little chuckle, “That would be nice, yes. However, my goals are more realistic. I would simply like to become good enough with my craft to make a stable living from it without the need for another job.”  
  
“So whaddya do if yer not already makin’ a livin’ off it?” McCree asked as their cross light signaled it was safe for them to continue walking.  
  
“Mm…” Hanzo hummed a bit as they crossed the road, once again seeming to contemplate his answer. That was one of the things they seemed to differ on; while McCree usually let his words flow freely, Hanzo seemed to take every opportunity to mull over his response. However, he was a patient man and waited quietly for the answer.  
  
“I am the assistant manager at a locally-owned coffee and tea shop that prepares their own homemade blends and baked goods,” Hanzo said after the moment of silence, “However, I also do art commissions on the side in my free time.”  
  
“Really now,” McCree mused, “How do ya come by the free time t’ pursue yer art? Assistant manager’s gotta be a busy job, yeah? Surprised ya had time t’ even take a class in the middle a the day.”  
  
“Well, today was my day off,” Hanzo started, “Regardless, my manager is a very… kind and understanding man. He knows of my goals in life and allows me to manage my own working hours so that I may work around my craft. Besides, he is a very hands on man and prefers to handle much of the business himself. My job as assistant manager is more a simple title.”  
  
McCree listened intently and soaked up all the information that Hanzo was willing to grace him with. It was actually a pleasant surprise how open and talkative he was being. He’d thought that, at most, he would get a short and to-the-point answer. This? This was actual conversation they were engaged in.  
  
“Well, damn. Yer mighty lucky t’ have a boss like that, aint’cha,” McCree said, “Sounds like ya end up havin’ plenty a free time on yer hands. Pretty cushy job.”  
  
“Hm… Yes… I suppose I did get lucky.”  
  
McCree smiled and gave a little hum of his own before continuing on with their friendly conversation, “So ya said ya take commissions? How’s that work? Post ads in the paper or somethin’?”  
  
Hanzo let out a short, clipped laugh, “No, of course not. Who does such a thing in this day and age?”  
  
“Well ‘scuse me, sir, but I dunno how all y’all artsy types do yer thing,” McCree laughed.  
  
“Mm, no, I suppose you would not,” Hanzo mumbled as he seemed to glance over towards him. McCree didn’t miss the way the man looked him up and down yet again before turning to look back the way they were walking. If he was any other type of person, maybe McCree would have been offended. However, he didn’t care as he simply waited for Hanzo to elaborate further.  
  
“I maintain a few online blogs,” Hanzo said after a moment, “One for business, one as a personal art blog, both linked to my email. I receive an inquiry, and usually have a back and forth between the potential customer to see what it is they are looking for.”  
  
“So ya do digital work, then?”  
  
“Most of the time. However I also receive requests for physical pieces. If it is from a customer in another location, I get references for what they want, get completed payments, and send them the physical work. If they are locals in my area, the process is far easier. Occasionally I will even have someone request a painting of them or a full family portrait be done.”  
  
“Pretty varied with the type a art ya do,” McCree commented with genuine curiosity.  
  
“It is best to be skilled in a wide variety of art forms. Had I only the knowledge of… say, painting, then my job opportunities would be restricted. Being versed with both digital and physical art forms offers me more variety in how I distribute my work.”  
  
McCree mulled over the other’s words. It seemed like being an artist was actually a far more complicated sort of thing than he’d ever given credit for. He always thought artsy types had it pretty easy; they just drew or painted whatever they wanted and people would flock to them in droves. He supposed he’d been wrong.  
  
“Alright,” McCree said with a nod of understanding, “So, say I wanted t’ buy somethin’ off ya. How’d somethin’ like that go?”  
  
Hanzo paused a bit in his walking and looked at McCree steadily, “... Are you asking in a hypothetical manner or… ?”  
  
McCree paused along with him and tilted his head to the side a little bit, “I suppose so. Ain’t got the cash t’ actually do that, if yer work is as expensive as it looks. More jus’ curious than anythin’, but who knows. Maybe in the future.”  
  
Hanzo let out something of a little huff and seemed to grow a bit disappointed as he continued walking, “Well... if you ever find you have the desire to actually commission me, and have the means to do so, then we can discuss further about that process.”  
  
“Fair ‘nuff,” McCree said with a little smile as he moved to continue walking along with him. He was just glad that Hanzo was talking with him so much. That fact alone made him settle into a happy little mood, even more than the one he’d already been in. He found himself just wanting to know more and more about the man as other conversation topics popped up with little thought.  
  
 “So what’d ya do before ya got into art?” he asked.  
  
Hanzo glanced towards him with a raised eyebrow, “You ask many questions.”  
  
“Well, how else am I gonna get t’ know ya?” McCree chuckled.  
  
“Mm… I have answered enough questions.”  
  
McCree internally wilted a bit at the initial assumption that Hanzo seemed to be shutting down on him a little.  
  
“Tell me about yourself, McCree.”  
  
Those words made him perk up as a feeling of delight bubbled up in him and a bright smile lit up his face, “Aww, c’mon. Call me Jesse~”  
  
“... I shall stick with McCree.”  
  
McCree couldn’t even bring himself to be disappointed at the minor metaphorical wall the other put up with insisting upon formalities. The fact that Hanzo was even slightly interested in knowing anything about him was a positive point. It was honestly more than McCree thought he would get out of him.  
  
“Whaddya wanna know?” he asked cheerfully.  
  
Hanzo hummed a bit and seemed to mull over the question before he spoke up, “I have told you what I currently do for a living. What is it that you do?”  
  
“Ya mean besides strip ‘n have people paint pictures of my ass?” McCree couldn’t help but say with a laugh.  
  
“Ah, you saw that one, did you?” Hanzo said, his lip quirking up in a bit of a smirk.  
  
“Yeah. Think that one was my second fav, ‘sides yers. Kinda wanted t’ buy it off ‘im.”  
  
“... I thought you said you did not have the extra money to spend on art?” Hanzo asked with a raised brow.  
  
“Yep. That’s the only thing that stopped me, honestly. That ‘n I dunno how t’ go ‘bout buyin’ art in the first place. Ain’t exactly a connoisseur,” McCree chuckled, “Not t’ mention how awkward that woulda been. Jus’ goin’ up t’ a stranger ‘n sayin’ ‘Howdy! I like the way ya painted my rear. Can I buy my buns off ya?’ That jus’ ain’t right.”  
  
McCree glanced over when he heard a chortling noise he hadn’t heard before come from the man beside him. He saw Hanzo with a hand lifted to cover his mouth a bit, his hand curled loosely as if he was coughing. Though he was trying to hide it, McCree definitely saw the hint of a smile on his face and a small sparkle of mirth in his eyes. The sight warmed up his heart and made a fuzzy feeling settle in his chest.  
  
“Oh, what’s this?” McCree teased lightly as he leaned over and gently nudged Hanzo with his elbow, “Is Mr. Stern an’ Stoic startin’ t’ cut loose a lil bit~?”  
  
Almost as quickly as McCree had caught a glimpse of Hanzo’s amusement did it disappear. The small smile the other had worn dropped along with the hand he’d tried to hide it with and a neutral look set back onto his face.  
  
“No. I was… simply clearing my throat,” Hanzo muttered with a hint of almost childlike stubbornness in his tone.  
  
McCree’s grin only widened at his words, “Aw, c’mon. Don’t be that way, darlin’. Should laugh more often. Suits ya~”  
  
Hanzo’s eyes narrowed on him as he seemed to grow more agitated, “Excuse me?”  
  
McCree tensed up a bit, taken slightly off guard by the very sudden change in Hanzo’s attitude. One second he had seemed to ease up and have a bit of fun, and then the next second he had McCree pinned with a steely gaze. The switch was so quick, he felt like he’d gotten whiplash.  
  
“Huh?” McCree blinked in confusion. He honestly didn’t know what he’d said this time to offend the man.  
  
“What did you just call me?” Hanzo bit out in a seething way.  
  
“--Oh.”  
  
McCree reached up to scratch at his nose lightly out of awkward embarrassment as he let out a little laugh, which only seemed to annoy Hanzo further. That little nickname had just passed by his lips without a thought. It wasn’t as if he’d meant anything by it. He simply had a habit of calling certain people by pet names every now and then. Clearly Hanzo didn’t appreciate that.  
  
“Sorry,” McCree chuckled with a small apologetic smile, “Slipped out.”  
  
“Do not let it slip again,” Hanzo said tightly.  
  
McCree should have just nodded and let that little mishap stop there. That would be the thing any normal person would do; you apologize if you annoy someone and move on if they forgive you. However McCree couldn’t stop the cheeky little smile that spread across his face.  
  
“Aw c’mon. I feel like ya need a nickname,” McCree teased as he bumped his shoulder into Hanzo’s stiff one, “How ‘bout honeybee? Cute lil fuzzy things, but still pack a painful sting. Seems like it’d fit ya~”  
  
Hanzo’s hard stare turned into an outright icy glare, “Did you just liken me to an insect?”  
  
“A cute one~ Who don’t like honeybees?”  
  
The hard glare Hanzo wore only seemed to darken further when McCree uttered the word “cute”. Again, it was something that should have put him off, as it probably did for most people, but he only found that it made his stomach flip in a bizarre form of attraction. Though he didn’t want to actually offend the man or run him off, McCree couldn’t help but admit to himself that he was enjoying riling him up like this. Something about his icy eyes heated up something in McCree. Maybe he was being a bit of a sadist for getting enjoyment out of pissing the guy off, but he never claimed to be an angel.  
  
“Once again, I find myself beginning to regret meeting you…”  
  
“Ouch,” McCree feigned with mock pain as he brought a hand up over his chest, “Ya went ‘n broke my poor heart, sweetpea~”  
  
Hanzo abruptly stopped walking. McCree ended up stopping along with him and turned to glance over his shoulder at the other man. One look at Hanzo and he immediately realized he’d gone a bit too far. The smile he wore fell a bit as a cold silence stretched between them, neither of them moving for a few moments.  
  
When McCree saw Hanzo start to shift as if he would turn right around and start walking away, he moved without thinking and grabbed onto the man’s wrist to stop him.  
  
“Hey, hey, hol’ up,” he started, trying to keep an easy smile on his face despite the harsh glare Hanzo cast down at where McCree was grabbing him before sending that glare up at his face.  
  
“Release me,” Hanzo hissed out.  
  
“Alright, alright, I hear ya,” McCree said as he quickly let go and threw his hands up lightly in an innocent way, “Look, ‘m sorry. I’m jus’ teasin’ ya. Ain’t needa go ‘n get yer boxers in a bunch. I’ll cool it. ‘Sides, we’re nearly there. Place should be jus’ ‘round the corner here... We walked all this way ‘n I’m sure yer still hungry, right?”  
  
Hanzo was silent for a long while, almost too long. McCree genuinely worried that maybe he’d gone too far and had ruined his only chance. He would have kicked his own ass if he could physically bend that way. His nerves were starting to pick up again, which was making his little mouth issue pick up. He started to unconsciously chew the inside of his own lip, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh hard enough to taste the tangy hint of copper on the tip of his tongue. Still, he was just met with more silence as Hanzo stared at him.  
  
“Please?” McCree added on hopefully. He was trying to wait patiently, but it was difficult. Hanzo was a hard man to read, that was for sure. Though he was unaware of doing it, McCree’s brows raised up a little bit and a small hint of a pout made its way onto his face, effectively giving off the look of a kicked puppy.  
  
Hanzo seemed to tense up even further as the frown deepened a fraction. Seconds ticked by, the two of them just standing in the middle of the sidewalk as people walked around them, continuing on with their busy days. McCree was able to pick up the minute shift in Hanzo’s form as he seemed to slowly start to cool down. That hard gaze started to melt away as he turned his eyes away from McCree, pointedly looking at anything else besides him. The tenseness in his shoulders eased up a bit as he seemed to take in a few deep breaths.  
  
“... No more of this teasing and no nicknames. Understood?”  
  
Hope blossomed up in McCree as he sucked in a breath and quickly nodded, “Promise. Cross my heart.”  
  
Hanzo glanced back at McCree and looked at him with decidedly less animosity than just a moment ago. If anything, he seemed more exhausted now than anything, with a twinge of annoyance weaved into it. However, it didn’t seem like he was about to walk away, as he had been ready to do just a bit ago.  
  
Eventually, Hanzo let out a sigh and crossed his arms with resignation, “Then I suppose I shall still… allow you to buy me lunch… As an apology for your foolishness…”  
  
McCree perked up immediately as the little puppy-dog look was replaced with a happy smile. However Hanzo wanted to word it, it didn’t matter; he was still willing to go to lunch with him. They were having their rocky moments, mostly with Hanzo getting annoyed with him over something, but he was still willing to stick around. He was still coming along of his own free will, even if McCree had to damn near beg him to do it. That was the bottom line, and McCree could hardly contain his delight over it.  
  
“Sounds fair t’ me~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will actually be their little lunch date and shall continue in McCree's pov. A big chunk of it is already written up as of posting this since it was originally supposed to be part of this chapter, though it's not quite finished. As with the previous chapter, leave a bookmark/comment/kudos if you liked it and want more and if you think I should add any tags, lemme know.
> 
> Thanks for readin~ ♥


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